


Cherry Wine

by silverstardust



Series: The Trails Which We Leave Behind [2]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: "My Love" is the best petname, (?), And you can pry that from my cold dead hands, Arguements, Baby Names, Baby Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Cat Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Good Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, Making Up, Mentions of Sex, Pregnancy, Prophetic Dreams, Slut Shaming, Snusmumriken | Snufkin is a Cat, Superstition, Walks In The Woods, because he deserves it, romance novels, wood carvings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-12-31 16:21:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21148649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverstardust/pseuds/silverstardust
Summary: "I think I'm pregnant.”Joxter’s guitar made a loud snapping noise, followed by a clashy, broken twang as he accidentally snapped a string with his claws.--July 30, 2020 Update: A heavily edited version of this story is in the works for publication. Any publication of this story or a story similar is authorized.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this one's gonna be a bit of a shorter one, but rest assured, the one I'm preparing now will be similar in length to Lighthouse

Mymble slowly swirled the wine in her glass.

  


Across the porch from her, Joxter rested against the railing, carefully waxing resin onto his guitar, the old strings removed and a box of new strings beside him. The spring daffodils, in the garden on the other side of the railing were just beginning to bloom, and a few that had been picked by the girls rested among the crown of wilting snowdrops on Joxter’s hat. A bird in the distance began to sing its nightly tune, and the stream at the bottom of the hill gurgled and bubbled with fresh snow melt.

  


“How were your winter travels, love?”

  


Joxter hummed thoughtfully, setting the rag aside and closing the jar of resin. “Went towards Germany this year. Met a delightful pair of witches who taught me how to dye hair.”

  


“Dye hair?”

  


“Oh, nothing too fancy, just browns and blondes. Although one of them had bright blue- from elderberries.”

  


“How interesting.”

  


“Did you rest well over the winter?”

  


“Quite well.”

  


Mymble watched the wine swish in the lantern light, a deep red that was the same as Moominmaiden’s roses. It was a sweet wine, made from cherries, and it was one of her favorites. But it seemed it had soured over the winter, perhaps from the bottle not being closed all the way.

  


Or had it been her own taste buds that had soured?

  


Truthfully, she had rested well over the winter- when she hadn’t been awake. Multiple times she had woken up, sick or abnormally hungry. It had been a while since the last time that had happened, and the last time…

  


She could be wrong. She’d been wrong before as well.

  


Joxter opened the box of fresh strings and began to slowly restring his guitar. Mymble picked up the wine bottle near her chair and studied the label- the art was of an enchanted looking cherry grove, one that she was certain didn’t exist.

  


She’d been wrong before, but right more often than not.

  


“Joxie, do you like it here? In Moomin Valley?”

  


Joxter turned one of the tuning knobs before testing the string. “It’s one of the loveliest places I’ve ever been, that’s for sure. What’s brought this about? I’d tell you if I expected to be gone longer than winter.”

  


Mymble shrugged, taking the smallest of sips from her glass.

  


Bitter, but from what, she couldn’t say.

  


Abruptly, she stood up from her chair and flung the contents of her wine glass over the railing and into the grass. Then, she set the glass aside and uncorked the wine bottle, pouring that into the grass as well.

  


Joxter raised his eyebrows. “Now what was that about?”

  


Mymble set the empty bottle down on the railing.

  


“I think I’m pregnant.”

  


Joxter’s guitar made a loud snapping noise, followed by a clashy, broken twang as he accidentally snapped a string with his claws. He stared at her with a blank look.  
“I’m going to head to bed. If you haven’t set up camp, you’re free to stay. Goodnight.” Mymble quickly turned and headed back inside the house, leaving the door open to let the fresh spring air in.

  


“Goodnight,” Joxter managed to say after a few minutes, to the empty air where Mymble had been standing before.


	2. Chapter 2

“Good evening, Joxter! The boys are in the living room.”

  


Joxter dipped his head to Moominmaiden and Fuzzy politely as he passed the garden patio and stepped onto the porch into Moominhouse. Moomin and Muddler were already inside like Moominmaiden had said, sat at a table with a plate of cookies as Moomin shuffled a deck of cards. Joxter kicked the dirt off his boots on the welcome mat before going to the table and sitting down.

  


“Glad you’re able to join us finally,” Muddler teased. “We’ve already played a few rounds without you.”

  


“Can’t imagine cards is fun with only one other player.” Joxter chuckled, taking the cards that Moomin handed him.

  


“No Mymble tonight? She usually jumps at the opportunity for girl’s night,” Moomin asked.

  


“She’s feeling a bit under the weather.”

  


“I’m raising- shouldn’t you be at home with her then?”

  


“She insisted she’d be fine and that she’d rather me still enjoy my night than fret over her. Said she’d be fine with Mumble and if there was an emergency, she’d ring.” Joxter set his cards down on the table. “I’ll fold.”

  


“Raise,” Muddler mumbled, and Moomin flipped another card on the center of the table.

  


“Still! You probably should’ve stayed.”

  


“She nearly shoved me out the door, Moomin! Gave up offering after that. She’s pregnant, not dying.”

  


There’s a pause around the table, and Joxter regretted the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, as Moomin and Muddler both look up from the cards to stare at him. Joxter slowly sunk into his seat.

  


“Congratulations!” Muddler said cheerily.

  


“Already?” Moomin set his cards face down on the table. “You guys have barely been together for a year. That’s awfully fast.”

  


“So?”

  


“Well, I mean, you’re not even married.”

  


Joxter’s face slowly turned into a scowl. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  


“I’m just saying I thought you would’ve been one to wait,” Moomin said.

  


“You didn’t give a shit about waiting when I sucked your dick before we were together for a month.”

  


Muddler choked on his coffee.

  


“Joxter!”

  


“What? It’s true, isn’t it? Or do you not like that?”

  


“It’s crass! And you oughtn’t bring it up, it’s different-”

  


“Different? Different how! We love each other and that’s all that matters. Mymble’s relationship with me isn’t any of your business, anyways!”

  


“Guys-” Muddler tried.

  


“I’m just saying you ought to think before you go doing things like this. A child is a lot of responsibility-”

  


“No, really? I wouldn’t know that from watching the horde!”

  


“Guys,” Muddler tried again.

  


“Having your own child is hardly the same as minding someone else’s children every once and awhile! You’re hardly ready for that type of that responsibility!”

  


“Awfully kind of you to decide for that for me,” Joxter growled.

  


Moomin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh please, like you haven’t displayed it enough times for me to see it! You try to commit to something, and then you get scared and run off! You’ve done it before, and you’ll do it again, and you’re just gonna run off AGAIN and leave Mymble with ANOTHER kid to take care of-”

  


“Moomin!” Muddler scolded. “That’s enough.”

  


Joxter stood up silently, shoving his cards towards Moomin.

  


“And where are you going?” Moomin demanded as Joxter stormed away from the table.

  


“I’m leaving.” 

  


“What, now YOU can’t handle a bit of truth now?”

  


Joxter growled again in warning. “Drop it, Moomin. I’m not interested in hearing it anymore.”

  


“Oh come on,” Moomin complained, standing up. “You really ought to listen to me-”

  


“You’re not Hodgekins, I don’t have to! Sorry that I’m still apparently a whore who lives their own life and no longer up to your standards because you went and married Moominmaiden-”

  


“You leave her out of this!”

  


“I would’ve if you left Mymble out of it!”

  


“You’re being awfully selfish-” Moomin grabbed Joxter’s arm, and Joxter snarled, swiping at him with capped claws and tearing himself away from him.

  


Everyone froze.

  


“Next time you touch me,” Joxter said slowly, “It will be with my claws. Do you understand?”

  


“Joxter-” Moomin tried, but Joxter shoved him away and stormed out of Moominhouse.

  


When the door to her cottage was opened and Joxter came in, Mymble looked up and set her stitching aside with a huff.

  


“Joxie, I thought I told you I’d be fine.”

  


Joxter proceeded to spit out something very angry sounding in mumrikar, more to himself than anything. Mymble recognized a few of the words from when he had a door slammed on his tail.

  


“Argument?” Mymble asked softly.

  


“Little creatures have big ears,” Joxter grumbled, collapsing onto the couch next to her and resting his head in her lap.

  


Mymble didn’t see any of her children, but she humored his request. “Girls, you’d best scatter off now! Joxter needs a bit of quiet.”

  


Sure enough, one of the girls poked her head out from a hiding spot. “Will he play with us later, mama?”

  


“It’s getting a bit late for that. Nearly bedtime.”

  


“Tomorrow,” Joxter promised. The girl beamed at him, clearly happy with his answer, and quickly ran up the stairs and disappeared.

  


Mymble smiled softly, stroking Joxter’s hair. “Now, want to tell me what happened, love?”

  


“Just- Moomin, is all.”

  


“I don’t think it is, is it?”

  


Joxter sighed through his nose, rolling onto his back so he could look up at Mymble. “He politely suggested that I was a whore and then got mad when I called him out about it.”

  


“Usually you don’t get upset about that type of thing.”

  


“No,” Joxter admitted. “No. He accused me of going to leave as soon as the baby's born."

  


Mymble's hand paused with a twitch, before going back to stroking his hair. "Would you?"

  


"No! I'm not going to leave, why does everyone think I'm going to leave?!"

  


Mymble shrugged helplessly. "Just- you're a mumrik after all. I understand that you need to travel. And winters here are going to be a bit more than you're used too.."

  


"Do you want me to leave?" Joxter whispered.

  


"I'd rather you stay. But not at the cost of your health. I'd be sad if you left, but I'd understand. I wouldn't stop you."

  


Joxter fell silent. Mymble reached over him to the coffee table, grabbing her glass and offering it to him.

  


“Want some? It's cider. Good for your heart.” 

  


“That’s just an old wives’ tale,” Joxter complained, but he sat up, taking the glass from her and taking a quick sip- it’s sweet, but the aftertaste is bitter, and he quickly passed the glass back to Mymble. Mymble chuckled and took it back from him.

  


“Not to your taste?”

  


“It’s bitter.”

  


“Odd.” Mymble swirled the glass, watching the liquid swish inside. “It’s supposed to be a sweet cider.”

  


Joxter shrugged, lying back down and resting his head back in her lap again. Mymble is warm and the dress she’s wearing is soft and pleasant, and with her hand stroking through his hair, and Joxter quickly finds himself falling asleep again. The bitter taste of the cider is still on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a tad late! Couldn't update before classes because of traffic and rain.
> 
> I was talking with my editor (who's kinda not my editor but like, helps me brainstorm I guess?) and we realized if Joxter is 19, and Mymble already has 13 kids when they meet, she's at least like, 33, 34. I made her a MILF.


	3. Chapter 3

“...down she went after him, keeping her feet as best she could, and as she began, she thought she heard him crying out to her over and over…”

  


The small candle on the table flickered, providing just enough light for Joxter to continue working at the table. The door to the porch had been left open, along with the windows, and a gentle summer breeze drifted through, fluttering the curtains and bringing the sweet smell of honeysuckle and lavender from the garden. Fireflies twinkled amongst the tall grass and golden wheat stalks, wild daisies and goldenrods and bluebells serving as resting places for their blinking lights. Crickets chirped in the darkness of night, mixed with cries of owls on their nightly hunt for food, and propped up by multiple fluffy pillows on the couch, Mymble read aloud from one of the novels in her collection.

  


“...she fell fast and she fell hard, but what did it matter, since she would have gladly dropped a thousand feet onto a bed of nails if Westley had been waiting at the bottom..”

  


Joxter set his knife down, carefully blowing away any wood shavings from his work. He set the wood carving down on the table, leaning back in his chair and eyeing it.

  


A bit lopsided.

  


“..she rolled and twisted and plunged, cartwheeling towards what was left of her beloved…”

  


Joxter picked the carving back up, along with his knife, and carefully began shaving the wood again.

  


Mymble paused in her reading, looking up from her novel to Joxter. “What are you working on, my love?”

  


“You said you wanted a little more decoration for your garden.” Joxter blew the wood shavings away again, studying the chunk of wood.

  


Better.

  


Joxter set his knife down, picking up a much smaller one, and carefully began to carve eyes into the face.

  


“Yes, but who is it? You’re not one for pictures or statues of other people.”

  


“The Painted Lady, guardian of young children. I thought she might look pretty by your strawberries.”

  


Mymble smiled, placing a ribbon in her book before setting it aside, and moving some of the pillows propping her up. Joxter quickly stood up, taking her hands and helping her to sit up on the couch.

  


“I’d like to go for a walk. I’m feeling restless.”

  


“Are you sure? Will the girls be alright alone?”

  


“They’re asleep, but Mumble is up if it’s urgent. Just a short little walk. Help me up.”

  


Joxter nodded, wrapping his arm around her side, and pulled mymble to her feet cautiously. Mymble huffed, wrapping her arm around Joxter’s shoulders and shifting on her feet with a slightly pained expression.

  


“I’m ready for this baby to come already.”

  


“Still want to go for that walk?”

  


Mymble nodded, so Joxter walked with her through the open door. They walked a bit of a ways away from the house, with Mymble resting against his shoulders. The fireflies blinked around them and Joxter smiled, looking up to the sky to the stars above them, peeking out in between the clouds passing above them.

  


“Midsummer’s almost upon us. The Moomins invited us to their celebration, if you’re feeling well enough to go.”

  


Mymble nodded, squeezing Joxter’s shoulder as she stepped into the creek, dipping her bare feet into the water. “That’s sweet of them, but I don’t think I’ll be well enough to attend. You can go if you’d like.”

  


“I’d rather stay behind with you, if that’s alright. In case something were to happen.”

  


“This isn’t my first time, Joxie. I’ll be alright if you want to go.”

  


“I’d rather stay here all the same.”

  


He's not angry at Moomin anymore, but Joxter still didn't want to see him. Their argument had left a faint, but nagging sting, and he didn't feel quite done sulking about it yet.

  


He wasn't going to leave. He was sure.

  


“You’ve become such a worrywart, when did that happen?” Mymble teased.

  


Was he?

  


Joxter offered her his hand again. “I love you.”

  


Mymble smiled, stepping out of the creek and leaning on Joxter for support again. Together, they began to slowly walk back to the house again.

  


“Have you thought of any names?”

  


Joxter shrugged as much as he could with Mymble leaning against him. “I thought you’d want to name him.”

  


“Him?” Mymble teased again. “You’ve already decided it’s a boy then?”

  


Joxter flushed a ruddy red, ears flickering in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to. But I keep having that same dream I told you about, with the little boy with the kitten face.”

  


“You’ve been having that dream for quite some time now. Almost a year?”

  


“Just about, yes.”

  


“You think it’s forebodings then?”

  


“Maybe. Can never be sure until it's happened.”

  


Joxter helped Mymble sit back down on the couch again, passing her the pillows so she could arrange them however she’d like.

  


“I’ve got one name in mind, perhaps, but it’s a mumrikar name. I’m not sure if you’d be able to say it.”

  


“I don’t see why he can’t have a traditional name, love. What is it?”

  


“Snusmumriken.” Joxter sat down next to Mymble, kneading one of the pillows with his claws.

  


“That’s pretty. It sounds like a purr, almost.”

  


“Do you need anything, Mym?”

  


Mymble hummed, settling back down into the pillows. “Perhaps just something to drink? There’s an apple cider in the kitchen.”

  


“I’ll be right back then.”

  


Joxter padded into the kitchen. In one of the cabinets, he found a few glasses and the bottle of cider Mymble had been drinking in lieu of wine at dinner. A quick whiff of the bottle ensured it still fresh and not yet fermented, and he poured a glass for Mymble. As he reached to put the bottle away, he found another bottle tucked in the back of the cabinet, not yet opened. Joxter popped the bottle open with his claw and took a whiff of the contents.

  


Cherries.

  


Joxter filled a mug with the bottle for himself before putting the bottles away. He took both cups and returned to the living room. Mymble was resting against the armrest of the couch again.

  


Joxter passed her the mug, sitting down at the foot of the couch with his own mug.

  


Mymble cradled the mug in both her hands, sighing happily. “Thank you. Found something for yourself there as well?”

  


“Found an unopened bottle of wine in the cabinet. Hope you don’t mind if I drink from it.”

  


She laughed, ruffling Joxter’s hair. “Not particularly. It’s not like I can drink it right now. You go on and enjoy it for me.”

  


“As you wish, my love.”

  


Mymble laughed again, tilting Joxter’s head back, and gently kissed him.

  


Inexplicably, he found she still tasted like her favorite cherry wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mymble is reading "The Princess Bride".


	4. Chapter 4

“Hello there, little one,” Joxter whispered. The baby in the cradle cooed at him, waving their tiny fists in the air. Joxter grinned and reached down into the cradle, tickling the baby’s stomach. They latched onto his fingers, squealing in delight and kicking their feet. 

  


“Active little thing already, aren’t you?” Joxter chuckled under his breath before reaching down with his other hand and cautiously scooped the baby into his arms. “Oh, look at you. You’ve got your mother’s eyes.” He gently kissed the baby’s head, sighing happily. “You are going to be the biggest trouble maker, I can tell already. You’d better tell me about aaaaall of your mischief.”

  


The baby babbled in agreement, digging their tiny claws into the fabric of Joxter’s jacket.

  


“You’re such a terrible influence,” Mymble sleepily mumbled from where she laid in bed.

  


Joxter smiled sheepishly, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Sorry love, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  


“I was bound to wake up sooner or later, it’s no reason to fret.” Mymble slowly sat up, brushing her bangs out of her face. “Was he fussing?”

  


“No, just awake.”

  


“He seems to be a little stuck to you.”

  


Joxter chuckled, rubbing the baby’s back. “Yeah, he dug his little claws in. He won’t be letting go until he wants to.”

  


Mymble smiled, reaching over, and gently tickled under the baby’s chin. “Well, I’m glad he’s content with you. That’s a good sign, isn’t it, Snufkin?”

  


“Snufkin?”

  


“Remember the first time I tried to say Snufs- Susum-”

  


“Snusmumriken,” Joxter said humorously.

  


Mymble huffed, booping Joxter’s nose. “Yes, that name. It sounded like ‘Snufkin’.”

  


“Cute,” Joxter said, and Mymble just rolled her eyes with a smile.

  


The door opened partially, and Mumble poked her head in. “Uncle Moomin is here, mama. He said that they wanted to check in, since you missed the Midsummer party.”

  


“Tell them I’ll be right out, dear.”

  


Mumble nodded and closed the door. Mymble stood up slowly and grabbed a shawl from her rocking chair in the corner of the room, throwing it over her shoulders to cover her nightgown.

  


“Will you be coming out as well, love?”

  


“In a minute, perhaps.”

  


Mymble gave Joxter a quick kiss and left the bedroom. Joxter smiled and looked down to the baby clinging to his jacket. The baby lifted his head and looked up to Joxter, giving him a raspy purr.

  


“What do you think, Snufkin? Shall we go see your Uncle Moomin?”

  


Snufkin only yawned in response, resting his head against Joxter’s shoulder again. Joxter chuckled softly, cradling him as he stood up and left the bedroom.

  


Mymble was resting in the large, fluffy chair, still looking quite tired. Moomin and Moominmaiden were both sitting on the couch, and as Joxter stepped into the living room, all three of them turned to look at him. He smiled at them, waving with one hand.

  


“I thought there must have been a good reason for you to miss the midsummer party today,” Moomin teased, standing up. “C’mon over then, introduce us!”

  


“I’m afraid I can’t pass him around much, he won’t let go of my jacket.” Joxter walked over to Moominmaiden, gently scratching the back of Snufkin’s head with his fingertips to get him to look up.

  


“How precious,” Moominmaiden cooed.

  


“He’s adorable,” Moomin agreed. “Such a cute little kitten face.”

  


There’s a beat of silence as the girls head into the kitchen, laughing.

  


_ But I had a dream of a little boy with a kitten face and wild hair. He liked to talk to the birds._

  


Moomin smiled at Joxter. “I’m glad you two are happy.”

  


“Thank you,” Joxter said softly. “I’m glad you are too.”

  


“Joxter,” Moomin said suddenly, “I’m sorry for what I said. It was out of line, and I shouldn’t have said it. Your life is your own.”

  


“It really hurt, when you accused me of going to leave. I understand that it’s a part of my nature, but I’m not cruel or immature. I can handle a bunch of kids.”

  


“I know. I’m sorry.”

  


“I don’t know about you boys,” Moominmaiden said loudly, as she opened a bottle of wine and began pouring it into the glasses Mymble had set out on the coffee table. “But Mymble’s dying for a glass of wine, and I think this is a perfectly acceptable reason to celebrate, isn’t it?”

  


“Moominmaiden, you girl are a blessing.” Mymble gratefully took a glass, settling back down into her chair.

  


“Boys?” Moominmaiden offered. Joxter took one of the glasses and sat down on the couch, making sure to hold it out of Snufkin’s reach. “Thank you.”

  


Moominmaiden smiled, sitting down on the other end of the couch. “You know what they say about midsummer babies, they’ll grow up with good luck and good health.”

  


“While that’d be ideal, that’s just a witch’s superstition,” Mymble chided.

  


Joxter chuckled under his breath, drinking from his glass. The cherry wine tasted sweeter than anything else he’d ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6aYWVde8QFQj7dou5gpZ8Qpu4OG0fz1t
> 
> 1) Cherry Wine, by Hozier  
2) Movement, by Hozier  
3) Howl, by Florence and the Machine


End file.
